


"Goodbye" - A Frit-ish Write!

by Friku8706



Category: DBZ - Fandom, Dbs - Fandom, Dragon Ball Super, Dragon Ball Z
Genre: Anime, Death, Frit, Fritters - Freeform, Frost x Hit, Hit X Frost, M/M, Oneshot, yaoi-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 12:46:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12841467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Friku8706/pseuds/Friku8706
Summary: A warning for described violence....Prepare for some intense Frit angst.Enjoy! ;D





	"Goodbye" - A Frit-ish Write!

Hit lifted his gaze as he felt the person in his arms squirm and writhe. His face held a blank expression, and he could only listen to the pained, strained gasps of the one who asked for death. He felt sickened to his very being, but he wasn’t going to dare confess it to the man in his hold.   
Strong fingers clenched and forced themselves deep into a soft neck that audibly crunched for a few seconds. But for Hit, it felt like an eternity. And damn did he wish he made Frosts death faster. The poor Ice-jin practically begged to be “put down”. Upon hearing his plea, Hit was dumbfounded and almost immediately denied taking the others life. For they had grown so close to each other…  
But, sitting on the pirates hospital bed in emergency care, it wasn’t any secret that the lizard was suffering. By each passing day the blue skinned fighters systems were caving in on themselves. Frost had small hope he would live anyways. But when the two of them got news that the con-artist only had a few days left, Hit was met with a tough choice.  
Frost had fear, of course. But the fear was of him dying slowly. He was terrified of the medical staff prolonging his life if he was just going to drop dead at some random point against his will. It was the suddenness of it all that startled the criminal most. He wouldn’t see it coming, but he knew what to expect. And as far Frost was concerned, he wanted to leave the world with a choice.   
For he didn’t have the decision to become fatally ill, or to be strapped down and injected by needles each day of the week, or be told that he may never live the same way again IF he managed to survive. But the symptoms of his sickness had began to take toll once again after the information of his approaching succumbing to the after life reached his and Hits ears. It seemed that the doctors who had worked their “best” to try and save him now carelessly let nature take its course. Or, that’s what they had appeared to have planned at least.  
Therefore, Hit reluctantly agreed to go through with Frosts request. Everything would be quick and painless, just the way Frost wanted it to be. The assassin decided to come at midnight, when visiting hours were over. Stopping time was an essential step that required little effort to pull off. But, deep down, as Hit walked down a crystalized hallway, he tried to imagine himself taking just another, ordinary visit to Frosts room. Only it was dark… as was the moment the purple man was preparing to play out.  
Hit didn’t surprise attack Frost or kill him out of nowhere. No, that idea sounded ridiculous to him. Especially since Frost feared his death to be unexpected as it was. So, he allowed Frost any free roaming and movement after stopping time. Once all was bright and sparkling- the lizard knew what was happening. He had the time to think over his choice and get ready for the contractors killing touch.   
…. but that wouldn’t come until minutes later. Because Hit didn’t get down to business so soon as Frost had initially thought. Instead, they sat together. The hitman walked into his expectant preys room and slowly slid on to the bed by Frosts side. His unpocketed hands fisted the freshly washed sheets below. He wanted to let a few more moments pass so that they could both take in and process the situation. Hit had been the only real person to try and trust Frost after the Ice-jin swore to stop committing crimes in exchange to grow stronger. But now, he had been gradually pulled down into a weaker position- cursed by the laws of mother nature as probable punishment for his bad deeds.   
“… are you ready?” Hits deep voice broke the silence. By his tone, it was clear that he was attempting to sound serious and stone-hearted. It was all that he could do to not break his fixated stature and express kindness. For all he knew, it might make Frost go out with regret to see someone saddened by even the smallest bit from choosing to slay him. And yet, Hit wished for the reptile to leave existence knowing he mean’t something.  
That being said, the purple male gestured over to his lap the second that Frost responded to his question with a stiff, face down nod. At first, Frost had simply scooted closer and turned to face Hits direction. He was assuming a strike to the heart was what he would receive. But instead, he found himself being gently pulled over and shifted between Hits strong thighs with soft, toughened hands. Those hands eventually moved in separate directions- one going down to stretch over and wrap an arm around Frosts slim waist, and the other upwards to cup/firmly grasp the short mans delicate throat. A gasp sounded instinctively from Frosts lips at feeling his most vulnerable area being handled by bone crushing digits. “H-Hit…” he breathed, as his eyes widened slightly. Hit remained silent for a moment, thumbing a spot that had a pulse. “…. Don’t look at me.” he soon said, staring at the wall a few feet from the bed in front of him. His voice was drizzled in malice. For a passing minute, Frost registered what was taking place. Would Hit snap his neck? …. maybe so. At least that way would be just as quick and painless as a finishing punch if it were to be done right. And Frost trusted in Hits years of experience to have no doubt that it would be successful in taking swift affect. So, he tentatively settled down, leaning against his mentors masculine chest. The assassins warmth was soothing, allowing him to close his eyes with an accepting sigh. Soon his pain would be all over…  
*CRUNCH*  
“Gah!!” A bewildered, raspy cry erupted from Frosts lungs, as his eyes flung open once again whilst he coughed up starstricken saliva. His pain didn’t end- what was going on?! “A-agh!… H-Hi-ck!!” He tried to get the assassins attention, his desperation expressing itself as he struggled against the secure grip on his waist, which only broke his hips with each thrusted restrain. He thrashed his tail and sharply kicked his legs, his hand fearfully clawing at the one smashing in his bones. But all the while, only slight movement was made in Hits sitting form. The business man simply took Frosts response as nothing but his body acting on reflex to survive. But deep down, he believed Frosts mind wanted this. So he only tightened his grip, feeling the soft, bendable material of the others esophagus squeeze and slowly snap beneath his palm. “Hhh!!” An agonized, sharp gasp squeaked from between Frosts teeth when he felt his windpipe pop into permanent uselessness. It served unresponsive to his struggled swallows for oxygen that was quickly cut off from him. Despite being able to breath in space, this moment was different. He had been hospitalized on a planet with air, which made his bodies functions change subtly to adapt and need air to thrive. If he stayed too long in a place that had it, it would grow to be toxic for his body unless it was beneficial for him. Therefore, so long as he wasn’t in a thin/ no atmosphere environment, breathing was an immense need for his life. Now it was being torn from him in the span of just twenty seconds at most, as Hit ended up snapping his neck at the end of it all. But before the pirates passing, Hit gave one last glimpse of his burning, red irises down at Frosts shocked and dying face, wiping some bloody drool from the corner of his hung open mouth, the lizards fangs glinting in the moonlight that seeped through the silk curtains close to them. It was the last thing Frost saw. There was no turning back after the damage had been inflicted. Death was inevitable the fraction of a second Hits fingers started to suffocate the Ice-jin.   
“…. goodbye.”  
…. after giving his farewell, Hit placed Frosts still form back beneath the sheets of his comforter, and fixed him up as though he were organizing a casket. He then stood and stared down at the seemingly slumbering body of the reptile, who’s face had taken on an innocent, at ease expression. It was like nothing had happened. Which hurt in a way. But Hit sucked up his emotions- only letting a single tear slip passed his eyes. Then he hesitantly turned away, taking the time to look back at his apprentice before making his move towards the exit as a desolate night reined on.   
The staff would most likely assume that Frost had died in his sleep, but if they bothered to further investigate, signs of physical strangling would be found. It didn’t matter, though. As soon as fingerprint scans would be processed, Hit would either be long gone from the planet, or the signs of the Legendary Assassin of Universe 6 would go unattended to. People knew about Hits job and reputation. And the hospital was aware that Frost had a criminal background. So, the pieces would come together just perfectly for there to be no consequence for the hitmans actions. He was simply doing his job.  
Unfortunately…. Hit acted out too soon.   
For the very next day, he returned to the hospital in attempts to check out the scene. Well, he was simply curious about what they had done with his pupils body more or less. Perhaps they cremated him… or maybe they took him in for autopsy? Either way, Hit came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t get much sleep if he didn’t know.  
However, instead of finding out what he wanted, he made a devastating discovery. Once his tapping boots guided him through the doorways, he saw posters pasted and nailed to the walls that displayed bold letters and bright colors. They mentioned an illness called “Cleptoral Necromia” (Klep-tore-l Ne-crow-me-a). It was the same one that Frost had been plagued with. Out of sheer intrigue, Hit paused to looked over the information. Almost instantly, he felt his breath catch in his throat. It explained that a cure for Frosts rare disease had been made just a few hours after his murder.  
Hits heart shattered.  
He had one job….. and he didn’t do it right.


End file.
